Line 16: Line 16:


Blade-wielding warriors, life-takers, line-breakers,<br />
Blade-wielding warriors, life-takers, line-breakers,<br />
fighting like trollkin, as deadly and swift.
fighting like Artok, as deadly and strong.


Death-dealing axes-bright, star-metalled, blood-guzzlers,<br />
Death-dealing axes-bright, star-metalled, blood-guzzlers,<br />

Revision as of 19:10, 8 January 2013

This is a placeholder page for content that PD are actively working on.

Description

A trollslayer's crescent is a massive great-axe, usually forged with a sweeping crescent blade. They were first wielded in the short war with the trolls, and according to legend the heroes among the first Steinr fell from the heavens with these weapons in their hands. The earliest sagas claim that three of these axes were crafted of "star-stuff" - possibly a reference to the use of ilium in their forging - and that two of them were given as gifts to the warleaders of the Suaq and Kallavesi warriors before the final battle. If these weapons are anything more than mythical, their locations today are unknown.

Rules

The gift was laid before the Thane. A mighty axe, blade shimmering with irridescent colours, a weapon for a hero. "Saga! Saga! Saga!" the bannermen called, slamming the pommels of their knives on the oak board.

The scop stood up, took his harp in hand, and a silence fell in the hall.

"Star-fallen Steinr-folk, war-makers, earth-shakers,
landing like mountains, and girded with blood.

Blade-wielding warriors, life-takers, line-breakers,
fighting like Artok, as deadly and strong.

Death-dealing axes-bright, star-metalled, blood-guzzlers,
rainbow-like bladed, so keen-edged and sharp.

Long-ago troll-slaying, monster-fell ancestors,
nation-like following, down ages of time."

Verse after verse came, in praise of the first heroes, and the nation of Steinr, the formation of Wintermark and of all that had come since, verses added with every new tale that the hall told of its heroes. Then the scop turned to the visitors, and in particular to a burn-scarred figure who had stayed at the back.

"Hard-hammering, cold-quenching, white-forging weapon-craft,
tablet-like twisting, builds blade fast as light.

Mistress of runesmiths-work, bone-carver, iron-worker,
Karlsdottir, crafter, the finest of smiths.

Long-toiling effort makes greatest of greatest gifts,
Trollslayers crescent, blade bonded for war!

Mighty makes mightier, great Kolti Koltisson,
Hero stands taller, the thane of our hall."

The entire hall erupted as the rune-smith bowed, her name remembered now for as a long as the hall should endure. The scop smiled. Maybe it wasn't his best work, but he'd polish it later. After this much beer had flowed, no-one ever remembered the new verses anyway.

But they all knew the last one, always the last and always shouted by everyone, passed down the line of scops who had sung in this hall since the Empire was founded. This was not a verse for harp, this was a verse for hammered tables and smashed drinking horns.

"Axe-ready glory-torn, Wintermark newly-born,
bonded like sword-edge, a nation for war.

Ice-crafty Suaq-scouts, Steinr-line weapons high,
storm-crows amongst us, wise Kallevesi.

First Empress came to us, Wisdom she spoke to us
Empire like thanes-hall, nine nations as one.

Soul-singing, gathered here, heroes of Kolti's hall!

These are our stories, they say who we are."